Contradictions
by Breadaknee
Summary: Ever since I moved to Waffle Island, I've had a thing for this one guy.  He is like, legit, the man. A manly man. And, yeah, I like men. Manly men. HM:ToT; AngelaxOwen. Secret Santa Giftfic for Jean Cooper.


**OMG, I am soooo sorry this is late! Work, life, and family have taken over so I haven't had time for much of anything. But I hope this doesn't seem too rushed, and I really hope it's halfway decent.**

**Because, yeah, _Jean Cooper_, this is for you! Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! I really realllllly hope Owen is in-character. I tried my best because I'm really not familiar with HM:ToT, but I do know HM:AP, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, get better soon, okay? I know we don't talk as much anymore, and I miss you!**

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* * *

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Ever since I moved to Waffle Island, I've had a _thing_ for this one guy.

Actually, I've had a _thing_ for a couple of guys here…Like, say, Luke. I thought he was awesome until he almost slashed me in half with his stupid precious axe. Dude, honestly, who _does_ that? Seriously, Luke shouldn't swing his axe around because _Luke_ plus _Axe_ equals _Danger_ and _Blood_ and_ Missing Limbs_ and _**Angela's Death**_. Really, I was _**this close**_ to dying.

_**This close.**_

And Waffle Island just can't have that, man. Since, you know, I have to like, save it and all. …Freakin' Harvest Goddess.

Oh, and yeah, let's not forget Chase. Truthfully, I have no idea why I liked that little waiter-chef-boy in the first place. Maybe it was because I liked his humor; it was pretty much identical to mine. Or, maybe it was the fact that he could cook. Because Angela here loves food. But, there was some weirdness all up in Chase's business. And I don't do weird. Nope.

Okay, so, like, Chase wears _barrettes._ When I first met him, I tried to look past this, but I just got so annoyed that I completely stopped looking at him. Really, barrettes? And no, not one. Not two. _**Three**_. Three clips. Or bobby pins. Or whatever you want to call them. Chase straight up wears them in his hair. He says it's to keep his hair out of his face when he cooks, but I still see hair plastered to his forehead when I'm chillin' at Sundae Inn. So, yeah, Chase, what's up with them clips? Oh, and not to mention his rude attitude. Hey man, I know you're an orphan and everything, but so are like, a thousand other people in the world. You don't have to keep raggin' on me whenever I try to help Maya cook. Or when we make a gigantic, nasty mess in the kitchen. Geez, who cares if I just end up making it worse? Honestly, Chase, you'll end up with gray hair by the time you're twenty-five and Maya will just hate you then. Not really, but whatever.

And, yeah, okay, maybe I'm not Miss Perfect either (But I'm pretty damn close). I tend to over exaggerate. A lot. I get angry. Easily. I'm impulsive. Really. And I have a habit of sneaking around. Not that type of _sneaking around_, you dirts. It's just that when I want to know something, I don't take the easy way out and ask. I totally just snoop. Call me Angela, the Awesome Farmer Ninja of Awesomeness. Because, that's right, I'm just _that awesome_. I would have to say I'm unique, as well. If you ask Kathy, she'll just say I'm weird. But in a good way. For if I was weird in a bad way, there would be problems. Because, like I said before, I don't do weird.

Anyway, back to this _one guy_. He is like, legit, _the man_. No, seriously, he's built like a five-story building made out of a million one-hundred-pound dumbbells that's guarded by a high-powered death machine with sharp box cutters for teeth that eats whales for energy.

No joke.

Okay, so that last part about whales is a lie. But, really, you should see him! His hands alone are the size of small SUVs! It's ridiculous! And his feet? Oh gawd, don't get me started on those! They're like, bigger than boats! Yeah, boats! They're huge! Well, actually, he's huge in general. So, yeah, he is just huge. Period.

But…something about him doesn't add up. So, me being me, I just have to find out more about _this guy_. Because I want to figure this out. And, yeah, okay, my love life isn't very _bumpin'_, if you know what I mean; if _this guy_ is just as weird as Chase I honestly don't know what I'll do. I guess I could go for Julius…

…

AH HECK NO.

If I think Chase is weird (which, really, he is), then Julius is a circus freak. Gawd, if I can't stand the sight of barrettes in a guy's _peach_ (yeah, I know, right? PEACH) colored hair, then how am I supposed to stand the sight of those ridiculous heart earrings that purple-haired ring-wearin', bracelet-lovin', fashion-obsessin' fool wears all the time?

Yeah, some girls dig that.

Angela is not one of them.

I like _men. Manly men._ Like _this guy_. But everything about_ this guy_ just doesn't make sense. He's like a walkin'-talkin'-hammer-weildin' contradiction. Seriously. And it sucks because I really like him. Like, _**really.**_ There are just a few things I don't understand. And, people, we just can't have that. Angela must understand _everything_. _**Everything**_.

Most of you peeps probably know that I'm a city girl. Yeah, that's right; I was born in the city. Big whoop. But anyway. From what I know, _manly men_ are supposed to be downright _**manly.**_ That's just how it's supposed to be. Well, that's pretty much how it is in the city. But obviously that isn't how Waffle Island rolls.

_This guy_…just baffles me.

So, I decided to do something about it. That's right, spyi—I mean _investigating_. I'm calling it _**Operation Owen**_ or _**The Double O**_ for short. And here are a few things I've learned about Owen (Yeah that's right! OWEN!) so far:

One—he loves cocktails. No, seriously, he goes to the Sundae Inn almost every night with his grandfather, Ramsey. I should know, I'm there drinking just as much. Har har.

Two—Owen used to have a _thing_ for Kathy, but Kathy didn't have a _thing_ for him. Wah wah. More for Angela, I always say.

Three—he has the _prettiest_ gray-blue eyes I have ever seen. Really. And his eyelashes? My gawd! They are to _die for_. Seriously, he blinks and you can hear them flapping through the air. Honestly, I could probably use them for my own personal fan. Oh, hey Owen, honey, come cool me off with your pretty little lashes! You're getting me all hot and bothered! Hehehe. Anyway, yeah, whatever.

Number four—Owen is, to put it frankly, a sweet guy. Yeah, I know, it confuses me too. He's a _manly man_. He should act like it, too, right? That's what I think. But, hey, maybe I'm just being stereotypical. Every manly man I have ever met has been a jerk. Maybe my expectations are a little low because of that. Owen probably puzzles me so much because he exceeds them. Yeah, let's go with that.

Okay, and lastly, number five—Owen, according to his little cousin Chloe, cuddles with a stuffed animal when he sleeps. Now _this_, _this_ made me laugh. _Hard._ At first I didn't believe her because Chloe is known to be a little pipsqueakin' troublemaker. But one time I barged into Owen's room (when he wasn't there, of course) and noticed a small stuffed bear sitting neatly against the pillows on his messy bed. But I guess it fits, ya know? Since he's like a huge bear anyway. Ever been on the receiving end of one of Owen's famous Bear Hugs? Yeah, when it happened to me (I gave him some sushi once; he really likes that too) I about died. Not just from the lack of air, but because Owen was hugging me and touching me and I could feel his awesome-hawt muscles and…

Yeah, let's not go there.

Well. Anyway. So, these last three things on my The All You Need to Know about Owen List are what confuse me. Sure, guys can have girly lashes. Julius does. Chase does. But a guy like Owen? It's just so…so contrasting! I've just never seen it before! And okay, maybe I'm not used to sweet guys. Living in the city…you don't run into that much. Guys are real jerks, trust me. BUT OWEN? I just can't…gah! And sleeping with a stuffed animal? I hardly ever do that (okay, well…it's not a stuffed animal. It's my dog, so yeah.). Geez, maybe I'm overanalyzing this and making this entire situation into something it's not. But whatever. I want to know what makes Owen tick. I want to understand why he acts the way he does but looks the way he looks. I just want to _know_.

And I fully intend to.

* * *

"Well, what do you think?"

That his ass can crack a walnut the size of _my head_. Yeah, that's what _I_ think.

Maya, Kathy, and I are making a snowman right outside of the Sundae Inn and Owen just so happens to be talking to Luke. They both just walked out of the building; they practically have lunch together every day.

"…Angela?"

I blink and tear my gaze away from Owen's _fine_ backside. Dear Goddess, it must be my birthday or something. I can look at _that _all day. He was wearing like, these awesome green cargo pants and a leather jacket. Yum.

"Yo, earth to Angela. Stop ogling Owen's ass and pay attention to us, you loser."

I whip my head around and glare daggers at Kathy's blonde head. "Oh, shut up, you bum. I can stare if I want."

"Honestly," Maya eyes widen as she watches Owen approach us, "Why are you so obsessed with him, Angela?"

"Shhhhhh," I hiss at her. "He's close, he'll hear you!"

Kathy's eye roll is accompanied with a dramatic sigh. "Please." She plasters a smile on her face as Owen walks up to us. "Howdy, Owen. What brings you here?"

He flashes us a large, kind smile. It's so big that his eyes are closed. "Hey, girls. I was just grabbing some lunch with Luke, as usual."

"Ohhhhh," Maya giggles. Really, she always giggles. "Well we're making a snowman!"

"I can see that," he chuckles. Gah, he has such a deep laugh. It gives me the chills!

He turns, his striking blue eyes soft and dark, and gives me a smile. "Hey Angie, how's the farm?"

OH MY GAWD.

I just…oh wow. I never know why I choke up when he talks to me. He _always_ talks to me. He always asks about the farm. And he calls me _Angie._ It's like, his personal nickname for me. Hey, I'm not complaining. I absolutely love it. _**Love it.**_

So, yeah, I tend to be a little wacky when I talk to him.

"Oh, it's wicked awesome, as usual. Thanks."

Owen's smile broadens and his eyes sparkle. "That's cool. Maybe I'll stop over some time. You still owe me lunch since I won our bet!"

I narrowed my eyes playfully at him. Geez, doesn't he know that I would seriously cook him lunch _every day_? Never mind that I can't cook to save my life, but I'm learning! And okay, sure, he won our bet. We both wanted to see who would get to the last floor of the Ganache Mine first. Of course, he won. He still thought I did a good job because it only took me an extra hour to get down there. Whatever. I'm lazy. Sue me.

"Yeah yeah, you big bear man. I'll see you later."

"Okay!" He grins and starts walking away, laughing his big belly laugh. Gawd, I love that.

Kathy, to my left, covers her mouth and coughs. She's trying not to laugh and I all I want to do is punch her in the gut. Maya giggles. I told you, she always giggles. And suddenly both Kathy and Maya downright _guffaw_ in my _ears_.

"Okay, you can both shut up now!"

"Oh, _hey Angie_," Kathy mocks, sounding a little too much like Owen. It's kinda scary.

"Haha, it's w_icked awesome_, _thanks,_" Maya says in my less-than-girly voice.

By this time my face is as red as a tomato and my ears are burning. "I'm gonna straight up punch you both in the face."

Right after I say this, both Kathy and Maya sober up and stop laughing like little annoying hyenas. Because, yeah, I punch hard. _**Real hard.**_ And when I say I'm going to punch someone, I usually do.

"Okay, geez," Maya squeaks. "But really, I still don't get why you're so obsessed with him."

I roll my eyes and scoff. "Yeah, well, I still don't get why you're so in love with Chase."

Maya stomps her foot. "Chase is really cool!"

"Please," Kathy laughs, "Chase is as cool as Angela is girly."

"Hey!" I snicker, throwing a snowball at the blonde. Of course, she dodges it.

I know Kathy is more than likely joking around with me. Because, honestly, I might be a girl but I kinda lack all of the femininity that goes with being a female. I'm a straight up tomboy because _Angela_ plus _Girly_ equals_** Apocalypse**_.

Really. I'm a brunette with short hair (realllllly awesome short hair, thanks). I have big, chocolate brown eyes. And I'd rather stick my hands into dirt and fertilizer than paint my nails. That's just how I am, man. It's not gonna change anytime soon, either. I like me. No, I _love_ me.

"Yeah, and Chase is rude and stupid and wears barrettes!" I yell after Maya, who's rolling a large ball of snow for the snowman's head.

She stops, turns around, and stares. Her nose is pink from the cold and her pink scarf and gloves make her look like a giant cupcake. It kinda makes me hungry.

"He's just rough around the edges," she sticks her nose up snootily. "I'm just waiting for the day when he finally realizes how amazing I am and then he'll whisk me away—"

"Like, with his whisk?" I deadpan, interrupting her make-believe fairytale adventure. "Because you know he never goes anywhere without it."

"Oh, you!" she points at me. "Angela you're so…just so…"

"Unromantic?" Kathy states evenly, sarcasm laced throughout her voice.

"Yeah!"

"Oh, shut up. You're not helping, Kathy. Go mix drinks or something."

She raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, maybe I will." She starts marching away. "And watch out tonight, bitch!" she yells as she turns her head to look at Maya and I. "Don't wanna drink a poisoned cocktail, now do we?"

I smirk. "Oh, I can't _wait_."

…Damn it.

"Ooooo, Angela."

I scowl over at Maya. "Go make pretty pink frosted hairpin-shaped cookies with your weird ass boyfriend."

She bursts into laughter. "I wish!"

And then I start laughing hysterically too because yeah, she was serious.

* * *

Sometimes I don't get why I drink. I get touchy-feely and I tend to talk too much. _Way too much_. And when I usually talk _way too much_ it's with Owen. Which makes it even worse. Like, you know, as if I don't embarrass myself enough by stalking you half the time, Owen. No, let's just add my _bigdumbstupididiot_ mouth.

I'm just thankful that Maya is with me. She still isn't old enough to get down and dirty with the big boys (ahem, me) so she sort of…babysits me. To a point. Because I really think she gets a strange and creepy kick out of watching me embarrass myself or something. Maya, you Sicko.

And it's a good thing that Owen is all the way over _there_ and I'm all the way over _here_. Because, yeah, like I said, I tend to talk too much. Like now.

"OMG, Maya," I prattle. "Look at his hair! It's all bronze and awesome! I wanna run my hands through it, but I'm afraid it just might hurt me!"

Maya chokes on her pudding. "Well…duh. His hair? It _kinda_ reminds me of a porcupine."

"Chyea," I roll my eyes at her, swaying in my chair, "A HOT porcupine!"

Maya face palms and I giggle.

From across the room, Owen stands up and moves around.

"Ohhhh, Owen is just _so tall_!" I gush as I wave down Kathy for another coconut cocktail. Maya slaps my hand down when I leave it up in the air for longer than what's necessary. "Don't you think Owen is tall, Maya?"

"No," Kathy walks up to our table and answers for the other blonde. "That's just an illusion. Those spikes of his add like, another six inches."

"I agree," Maya says.

I slap my hand onto the table and the new drink Kathy had just set down in front of me sloshes around in the glass. Oops.

"And this is the last drink, Angela," Kathy announces, popping her hip as she places her hands on her waist. "Girl, if you drink anymore you'll start slurring."

"Okay." I smile and look around. "Oh, Kathy, I just love what you've done to the place. Looks so…festive."

Kathy eyes all of the Christmas decorations adorning the interior of the Sundae Inn. She frowns. "Yeah, that ain't me. Thank Maya for that."

I turn towards Maya and thank her.

Maya grins and licks her pudding covered spoon. How she likes pudding is beyond me. It's all…goopy. "Yay! You're welcome, Angela! And, BAM!" she points her now-clean spoon towards something green and red hanging from the middle of ceiling. "Feast your beautiful brown eyes on that!"

I squint. Kathy huffs and walks away, towards Owen's Table. Yeah, Owen's Table. It never changes. Owen, Luke, Ramsey, Dale. Always. _**Always**_.

"Is that…_mistletoe_?" I question Maya, suddenly sobering up. "That's icky."

"Well," she flashes me a dirty look, one that says, 'Excuuuuuuuse me?' and flings her spoon at me. Of course, it misses and flies right past my shoulder. Really, I don't even feel any air on that one. Dude, Maya, you _suck_. "I didn't even do it for your opinion, so suck it."

"Then who'd ya do it for, huh?"

"Myself, dumbass."

I blink. And blink. Then blink again. And suddenly it dons on me. I scrunch up my nose in disgust and give Maya an all-knowing look. "Oh, ew. You're wanting to get Chase under that, aren't you?"

Maya smiles a big smile and nods. "Yup. I figure, hey, if I kiss Chase, my niceness will somehow rub off on him!"

"More like Chase will _suck_ the niceness right out of you," I tell her, eying the innocent-looking mistletoe.

"Oh, please," Maya deadpans, her clear blue eyes accusing. "Honestly, Angela."

"Honestly, Maya," I retort.

She harrumphs and stares at Owen across the room. "You know…Owen's head is as big as that hammer he swings around. And that's a pretty big hammer."

I know what she's doing. Since I constantly find fault in Chase, Maya is now pointing out faults in my own love interest, which, as you all should know, is Owen. I guess it's only fair. So yeah, I'm just gonna hop on for this ride.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about men with big heads."

Maya gives a quick nod. "Yup!"

A few beats pass. Maya blinks. Another minute drags by. Her nose crinkles. After three minutes, her eyebrows scrunch together.

"Wait, what?"

I cradle my face in my hands. "Doofus."

"Whatever," she snaps. "Give me this," Maya orders, snatching the cocktail from in front of me.

"Hey!" I weakly protest. Truthfully, I don't even care all that much. I'm suddenly not in the mood for alcohol anymore.

"Hush," Maya covers my mouth sloppily with her hand as she gulps down more than half of the drink in my glass. Geez, girl, slow down. You're not even legal yet!

"Should you be doing that?"

"You make me do this."

"Don't be blamin' me! That shit doesn't roll with me, man."

"Oh, crap, he's coming over here!"

"Who's coming over here?" I ask, looking in all directions. I see bronze and muscle and hotness and I about faint.

"Owen!" Maya hisses.

"Shit, Maya," I tweak, frantically smoothing out my clothes and hair. I look down and see her casually sipping on my stolen cocktail. "What the hell, Maya?" I practically yelp. "Owen will freak if he sees you drinking! I'm out of here!" I quickly walk towards the nearing blacksmith, my eyes downcast.

"Angela, hey," Owen breathes when I try to brush past him.

Ooooo, caught. …Damn.

"Hello, Owen," I squeak out, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "How's it hangin'?"

He has to look down and I have to crane my neck to look up so that we can both gaze into each other's eyes. His eyes are heavy-lidded and focused on me. It's funny because all _I_ can focus on is his long, dark girl lashes casting shadows across his cheekbones. Seriously, I even think some are just chillin' on his face, they are that long!

_Contradiction. Contradiction. Contradiction._

"Man, your lashes are long, O-Man!"

"Uh…what?"

Damn…DAMN. I can't believe I just said that! Crap, this is never good because I get even more nervous and then I start to babble. I babble _a lot. _

"I mean, uh, well…Okay, well I did mean what I said. But just because you have girly eyelashes doesn't mean you still can't crush a person with your pinky finger, Big O."

Owen stands there and blinks. See? _See_ what happens? I told you people I shouldn't drink!

"Seriously," I laugh shrilly, "you could put a giant angry bear jacked up on steroids to shame! I mean…not that you _look_ like a bear, or anything. But, yeah, you could definitely take one in a fight."

"Angela…"

"Really, have you seen your muscles? You could probably take down a mountain lion at the same time you're fighting the steroid-injected giant bear…and maybe even a few wild dogs to boot. Geez, you could even pound me into the ground with your big toe. I'm sure that's pretty muscular too."

"Angela," Owen scratches his head, "All I want to do is talk to you."

"Oh," I sigh softly, "oh. Uh…okay, O-Daddy. Talk away, I guess." Yeah, it's not like I just didn't embarrass myself in front of you or anything. Damn my _bigdumbstupididiot _mouth.

"Uh, alone?"

My eyes widen. Air rushes out of my lungs in one big _whoosh_ and I think my brain shuts down for a total of five seconds. _Alone?_ He wants to talk _alone? __**Alone?**_

"I—"

"Hey," Maya yells out, interrupting me and grabbing everyone's attention. "Owen and Angela are standing under the mistletoe!"

…Are you kidding me?

But, sure enough, when both Owen and I look up, the mistletoe is just hanging there all innocent like. Honestly it is pretty much taunting us.

And it isn't helping that almost every single villager in the building is chanting, "Kiss, kiss, kiss."

Owen, being the un-gushy, totally unromantic person he is, just shrugs, gazes down at me, and says, "Well, I always did like you."

And that, people, is when Owen kisses me. Can you believe it? Well, you better! Because yeah, Owen and I share our first kiss under some strategically placed mistletoe in a restaurant-slash-bar with a ton of people hooting and hollering as they watch us practically play tonsil hockey with each other.

_And it is __**wicked.**__ Totally __**wicked**__. _

His lips are so awesome and soft and yeah. They move over mine like they were meant to just stick there like someone super-glued them or something. Owen fists a hand into my brown locks and grabs my waist, dragging me closer to him. I gasp when I feel his hand on my butt, because yeah, I kinda like that. He takes this as an advantage and delves into my mouth, kissing me deeper. And this, folks, is when we totally, shamelessly, start making out in front of everyone we know. It's wicked hot and sexy and a little sloppy because yes, we are both quite tipsy. So I'll just spare you the juicy details and skip to this next part. Because Angela and Owen need some privacy. Well, as much as a girl can get in a restaurant-slash-bar with a ton of people hooting and hollering as they watch Owen and I practically maul each other.

This is a prime example of Owen's manliness. I just…can't put this moment into words because nothing I say will give this spectacular moment in time any justice. I'll just say this:

_It was __**hot**_.

Anyway, after we break apart and everyone stops staring at us, Owen is all like, "I really like you, Angie."

"Well, I sort of figured that out when you had your hands all over my ass, but hey, thanks! I like you too. Like, _**really**_."

Owen's eyes shine when he smiles at me. "I love that. I love your straightforwardness."

I smirk up at him and place my hands on his arms. Yeah, ladies, they're harder than a rock infused with steel and cement and _diamonds_ because hey, diamonds are pretty damn hard. But then his skin is like velvet and it drapes over his muscles _just_ _like so_. It's perfect and my mind just screams, _**"Contradiction!"**_

But hey, I am starting to like contradictions.

"And I just love how you're so direct. It's super hawt."

He chuckles and I feel his muscles ripple under his smooth skin. I think I might die. "Thanks."

"Hey, get a room you two!" Kathy yells from the bar.

I stick my tongue out at her and Maya practically screeches.

"I can't believe I put so much effort into this place and that really good mistletoe plan and then _Angela_ is the one who gets some! Life sucks!"

Haha, not for me it doesn't!

* * *

So, all of you are probably thinking, _"What the hell happened between Owen and Angela (the hottest people on Waffle Island)?"_

Well, I am about to tell you!

Owen asked me out that same night we made out under the mistletoe. And, to my utter satisfaction, he did it in the most unromantic way possible. Because that is just how we both roll.

He was all like, "Angela, you and me need to be together."

And then I said, "Heck yes we do."

And BAM. Now we're boyfriend and girlfriend. Isn't that just great? Yeah, you know it is.

Oh, and I _have_ run my hands through his hair. And it's softer than down feathers on a pillow mattress! Hah, in your face, Maya! Porcupine, my ass…

So, yeah. It's Christmas Eve and Owen is supposed to come over today so I can finally make him something for that bet he won. I'm thinking fried rice because yeah, that's sort of hard to mess up, right? You just fry rice. Can't be too difficult.

WRONG!

It is _totally_ difficult to make fried rice! Gawd, I _burned_ it. How do you burn _fried_ rice? Honestly, someone tell me. Because Owen is going to be here any minute and I have _nothing_! _**Nothing!**_ This is a catastrophe! I'm ruined! I—

"Angela? I smelled something burning so I just let myself in. I thought something was wrong."

At the sound of Owen's voice, I start tearing up. Gawd, just…why? I furiously wipe at my eyes so he won't see me crying when I turn around.

"Oh, hey Big Daddy O, you're kinda early," I say, sniffling.

"Something is wrong," he touches my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

I shamefully turn around, keeping my head down. "I…sort of…burned dinner. But, hey, it was bound to happen. I suck at cooking. So," I look up at him and smile halfheartedly, "no big deal, right?"

He eyes my face for a very long time, which makes me really nervous. A soft, sappy expression takes over his handsome features as he stares at me. "Oh, honey, its okay! I'm sure whatever you were trying to make would have been really good!"

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the icing on the cake. A burnt cake, most likely, but whatever.

Owen…being overly _nice_ and _understanding_. For crying out loud, look at him!

"Gah! You're so confusing!"

Owen's face contorts and he looks rather puzzled himself. "What are you talking about?"

"You're just so…_nice_ and _sweet_. But, look at you!" I pointed at him. "You're so…_manly_!"

"So?"

"So?" I yell, my arms flailing. "You cuddle with a teddy bear!"

He frowns then and I suddenly feel like I've touched on something forbidden. "What, Chloe tell you that?" he grunts out. I nod. "Well, yeah…I have a stuffed animal. I don't…_cuddle_ with it; I just keep it in my bedroom. My parents gave it to me when I was younger."

"Oh…your parents?"

"They died when I was little," he tells me. "That's why I keep it."

I just stand there with my mouth hanging open and my arms hanging loosely by my sides. My Goddess my life sucks. Oh dear, now I feel like an incompetent fool. Here I am making fun of his sweet and kind ways and now he just tells me he's an orphan! Well, almost. He still has Ramsey, but I know that that is not the same. Geez, now I'm going to have to go apologize to Chase! But really, here Owen has no parents and he's the sweetest person I've ever met. Really manly, yet sweet. And then Chase is just a rude meanie. So yeah, maybe I'll skip Chase's apology and fast forward right to Owen's.

"Owen…I'm so sorry. I—"

He shakes his head at me and flashes me a small smile. All it makes me want to do is hug him to death. "Don't be, Ang, you didn't know."

"Well…damn. Here I thought you were just a big ol' contradiction."

"A contradiction?"

"Yeah. Here you are looking all tough and hot and beefy, but then your personality just doesn't match. You had me confused for the longest time because it was odd to me. Not weird, just odd."

"Wow, woman. You look into things way too much. Really, it's not that big of a deal. You could have just come out and asked me."

"My dear O-Man," I pat his arm, "you will learn that I do things a bit differently."

"Apparently!" he guffaws, slapping his knee.

I practically squeal with joy. Owen has this awesome belly laugh that just makes _you_ want to laugh with him. It makes you smile and forget all about your worries. Like say, being a complete idiot.

Because, really, I _am_ a complete idiot.

Yeah, don't agree with me. This is probably the only time I will voluntarily state that I am, indeed, an idiot. And, yeah, maybe I _did_ look into Owen a bit too much. I should have just accepted him the way he was because okay, where else can I find a guy like him? Geez, Owen is like, a rad-awesome gift complete with a really cool wrapping paper design and a pretty bow. He's hot, muscle-y, and the sweetest man I'll probably ever have the privilege of meeting. …Among other things.

He's perfect. Screw contradictions.

I'm pulled out of my awesome epiphany when Owen plays with a piece of my hair. "Wanna try to make dinner again?"

"Only if you help me," I demand teasingly, kissing him on the lips. Yeah, I could do that all day.

"Sure. As long as I can cop a feel once in a while."

I smirk. "Heck yeah, you better!"

"…Sweet."

* * *

**So, tell me if you liked it or not! And Happy Holidays!**


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